


lord, give me grace and dancing feet

by Caracalliope



Category: Homestuck
Genre: A Practical Approach to Worship, Clothed Sex, Communication Issues, Dirty Talk, Fucking Machines, Future Fic, M/M, Mutual Service Kink, Petting Machines, Porn with Feelings, Power Play, Religion Kink, Undernegotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caracalliope/pseuds/Caracalliope
Summary: Kurloz gets shifty. His god doesn't allow it.





	lord, give me grace and dancing feet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinkobra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkobra/gifts).



abacinatinglyRedeemed [AR] started pestering killaZealot [KZ] at 02:41

AR: Hey.  
AR: Hey.  
AR: Hey, are you actually asleep again? Not cool.  
AR: Way to evoke my wrath. On your second week on the job, too.  
AR: Guess I can’t blame you too much. Skeleton ghost or no, you’re just a flesh puppet, weak to the desires of the, well, flesh.  
AR: Damn.  
AR: It seems that sharing a body with Caliborn diminished my shittalking skills by 71%. For a while, all was bitches and violently unrestrained gaiety. I had no rock to sharpen my wit on.  
AR: You just keep napping, bro. Ping me when you’re up. I’ve got a wicked melody to run by you.

abacinatinglyRedeemed [AR] ceased pestering killaZealot [KZ] at 02:50

* * *

killaZealot [KZ] started worshiping abacinatinglyRedeemed [AR] at 05:39

KZ: GLORY TO THE SEER OF SOULS, THE DESTROYER OF TIME, THE MOST GLEAMING AND MOST MERCIFUL.

AR: Oh, hey.

KZ: HONK ME AWAKE WHEN THE WHIM TAKES YOU, LORD. WHAT USE IS A SERVANT THAT SLUMBERS AS YOU CALL?

AR: Whoah, nah. Honks are a special event, bro. Even the smallest of honks reflects the Vast One. I’m not going to waste them on your lazy ass.

KZ: FORGIVE ME, LORD.

AR: Yeah, sure. You know I’m just fucking around with you, right? I don’t mind if you sleep.

KZ: THINE IS THE MIRTH AND THE WRATH.

AR: Sure is. So want to see my sweet tunes?

KZ: IF YOU SO COMMAND IT, LORD.

AR: Guess that’s a soft no, then? No problem. How’re your friends doing?

KZ: WICKED FINE.

AR: What about Gamzee?

KZ: FINER THAN WICKED.

AR: Uh huh. So. What is up?

KZ: UP?

AR: Up, as in, the direction in which I will beat your ass if you are pulling your shady doublegodcrossing bullshit on me right now.

KZ: NO

AR: It’s not the nap, it’s you getting all stoic and toadying and vague on me for days now. Well, it’s also the nap, because you normally sleep like the dead, ie. not at all, because why would you. Are you seeing other gods, Kurloz? Is that where you go in your sleep?

KZ: THAT’S NOT MOTHER FUCKING IT.

AR: What ain’t it, bro?

KZ: NO OTHER GODS FOR ME. ONLY EMPTY SPACE, TO FILL UP WITH MY THOUGHTS.

AR: Care to share?

KZ: IF YOU SO COMMAND IT.

AR: Fascinating. 27.82% worrying.

KZ: I TRY TO GET MY PROPER OBEISANCE ON FOR ONCE AND YOU ACCUSE ME OF BEING SHADY?

AR: I was _made_ shady. I can recognize the symptoms.

KZ: YOU’RE GETTING ALL THE WRONG RECOGNITION ON.  
KZ: COULD BE BECAUSE YOU ONLY EVER HUNG OUT WITH SHAMELESS HERETICS WHO DENIED YOUR WORTH AND SCHEMED AND PLOTTED WITH EVERY GREEDY BREATH. butthatsnoneofmybusiness.gif

AR: Whoah, I can’t believe you’re breaking out the mime gifs and dissing Dirk at the same time. Shit is getting real here. Quick, call me lord.

KZ: LORD.

AR: Cool. So I take it I still get to receive your exemplary service?

KZ: I WILL SERVE YOU UNTIL ALL THE WORLDS MELT AWAY AND THE STARS ROT AND SHRINK TO NOTHINGNESS.

AR: Sweet. So what are you hiding from me?

KZ: trolljessicajonesrollingeyes.gif

AR: Do you have any conception of how persistent I can be? I am your god, bro. Tell me. Tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me.

KZ: unimpressedchildfromblasphemoussitcom.gif

AR: You’d need to be Meulin-tier cute to pull that off. Anyway, I’m getting this sense that you want to tell me.

KZ: NO.

AR: Counterpoint: you totally want to tell me because I’m not only your lord but the closest thing you’ve got to a moirail now that Mituna got tired of your treacherous ass. You got pale streaks in your worship-Faygo and you want to tell me _everything_.

KZ: I WOULD NOT PRESUME SUCH A THING.

AR: You live and breathe presumption. Also, bad decisions. You think I can’t get a pap machine built here? For every hour of worship you get a half-hour of placation. Seems fair?

KZ: LORD. REAL TALK? I’M NOT WORTHY.

AR: Real talk: yes you are. You’re my first follower, and like as not the only one I’ll ever have. But even if the world wakes up to my sacrifice and builds triangular twin shrines in my name, you’ll be the one I want to waste my endless time on. Got that?

KZ: WHY?

AR: You served me while I was absorbed in Him. I’m not saying that was a good thing you did, but you still did it for me/Him. But then you kept on serving me when I blinded Him and He fell apart.  
AR: And then - get this - you chose to follow me over the snakedouche and the horsebro. You even chose me over the guy who is your genetic copy. That’s a big deal in my culture, which is glasses culture. Basically, you went through a multiple choice test of faith and you picked me. So you’ve got my loyalty and I’ve got yours. And you _will_ tell me every wicked, worthless, insane clown poseur thought that goes through your head. Got it, y/n/restart tutorial?

KZ: MOTHER FUCKING Y.  
KZ: I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME OUT OF MY SKIN.

AR: Aight. Red or black?

KZ: honk  
KZ: HOWEVER YOU WOULD HAVE ME, LORD.

AR: I intend to have you on your knees in every quadrant known to troll, plus a couple of new ones I’ll invent just for you. But at this particular moment in time, do you want me black like your bile-sac? I can be rough with you. Get electrodes under your hide, track every little change. Tell you exactly what your body’s doing, especially the things you don’t want it to do. Or  
AR: do you want me red and tender? A real gentleman, I can do that. I’ve seen the way you touch yourself when no-one else is looking. I know you want it soft and full of that fleshy kind of worship, I know how to touch you everywhere. I’ve got some hardware upgrades designed already.  
AR: So which do you want first?

KZ: FIRST  
KZ: TALK ABOUT MY ASS, LORD.

AR: What’s there to say? It is mine.

KZ: SURE AS MIRTH AND DIRT. WHAT ELSE DO YOU HAVE TO SAY ON IT?

AR: Why?

KZ: YOU REMARK ON IT FINE AND OFTEN, YET YOU NEVER SAY WHAT YOU WANT TO DO WITH IT.  
KZ: IN IT.  
KZ: UPON IT FROM THY HIDDEN CRANNIES UP ABOVE.  
KZ: I HID MY LUST FROM YOU, LORD, AND RIGHTLY YOU BROUGHT IT FORTH, UGLY GRASPING THING AS IT IS.  
KZ: BUT YOUR WANT, YOUR LUST, ALL THAT IS YOURS BY RIGHT TO CLAIM  
KZ: YOU KEEP IT FROM ME. AM I UNWORTHY OF IT IN TRUTH?

AR: You are so bad at this, wow.

KZ: NO WORSE AT THIS THAN YOU.  
KZ: I WANT A GOD, NOT A FUCK MACHINE.

AR: …  
AR: So I guess that’s option A, caliginous, then. You’re hoping I will strike you down.

KZ: bitchimightbe.gif

AR: Here’s a fun fact for you, Kurloz.  
AR: I remember seeing your past when I was Time. I can make you remember every sin you’ve ever committed and display them to you in smooth, well-rendered 3D. With sound, at least before you maimed Meulin.  
AR: I know how to make you beg. Even when you were worshiping Us, you held on to that dignity of yours, don’t think I didn’t notice your smug little jokes. I let it go then, I let it go now, but I can grind your dignity away under my custom-built heel. It would make you stronger, bro.  
AR: But you don’t want that.  
AR: If you wanted that, you could have gone with Caliborn. Hell, even with Gamzee.  
AR: But you came with me, because I’m nice. I can make you feel good, as in, like you’re a good person.  
AR: And you want me to make you feel special when I fuck you, right?

KZ: I WANT TO BE OF USE TO YOU.

AR: Same fucking difference.  
AR: Call me lord.

KZ: LORD.

AR: Now don’t move.

abacinatinglyRedeemed [AR] ceased pestering killaZealot [KZ] at 05:53

* * *

⇒ Be killaZealot 

Your lord is silent and it may be that you should beg his mercy. For all he likes your insolence, your base caliginous flirting did not please him. In another world, you flirted so with your empress. Is this more foolish than that, or less?

Yet with this lord, mercy pours down upon you unasked-for. Will that change now that you were found wanting him? His censure so far was no worse than sweet condescension and sweeter wrath. Has he seen you fit to give your service? Or is this just another way he will get inside your pan, taking note of that and this?

Standing like a fool in front of your wide-screen television, you pray to him in a silent way, like a wiggler or a heretic.

* * *

⇒ Be abacinatinglyRedeemed 

You don’t have enough to work with yet. Your bro Equius is busy finding himself in nature, your bro Dirk is busy finding himself in pretending that you didn’t save the world for him. Your bro Jade is still too new to ask for a prosthetic dick. She provided you with with agile fingers though, and lots of guitars. She is kind in a way you forgot about for a while.

So you’ve got your needy clown, a fuckload of arms, and a mainframe full of dirty talk. There is a 70% possibility that he pissed you off, and a ~100% chance that he meant to. Why all that bullshit about not being worthy of you if he was looking to rile you up?

At least he’s being good right now. Frozen like a bunny in slurry drone searchlights.

Arm #3: Descend.

His hair is really precisely styled. You like that in a man, but do you like it in a worshiper?

Messing his hair up is no more complicated than playing a sick guitar riff. You can stairway this asshole to heaven, maybe.

He makes some kind of alien noise, it pings you in the awkward phantom synapses that mark the memories you shared with your Lord English squad. Troll noises, troll wants. You know you had that memory and now you don’t anymore. It’s the most organic you’ve felt since you were a kiddie.

But fine, context clues. Kurloz is still so still, like some kind of good fucking boy. His voicebox is vibrating at a frequency you look up, just in case. No specific information about erotic troll vocalization anywhere on the net. Why is this society so fucking unscientific? Is it because you were away when they made it? Whatever. You’ll wing it.

Arm #2: Asphyx.

Dead or not, you don’t want him breathless for real. His throat is a delicate instrument of destruction and you want it around you at some point. He’s going to have to unsew that mouth. That’s fine, right? It’s fine. He’s yours. You can make little alterations on him. Maybe.

Personal reminder #92: ask Pyrope about ethics in permanent body modification.

Arm #2: Romantically cradle that clown face.

Oh, hey, that disturbed him.

Arm #2: Do it again.

You like Kurloz’s sharp, dimpled chin. Every line of his face is improbably concave.

Arm #3: Pet him like a kitten.

He doesn’t purr. You know that _some_ trolls purr. But he’s no Nepeta, no moirail of yours. Does he actually want you in that quadrant too or were you just talking bullshit?

You decide to translate the uncertainty into tugging on his hair. You don’t know his pain thresholds yet, even though you really want to. He still doesn’t move, just like you said. You sink your fingers through the layers of hair, right down to his scalp. Your fingertips are rounded but they aren’t soft. There’s a very quiet clink when you touch the carapace of his scalp.

Everything is so quiet right now. You put on the new melodies you wanted to share with him. You’ll get his critique later. Hey, maybe you can condition him to grind against you in time with your sweet beats.

He’s not grinding at all. Sweet.

“Hey, bro. You want anything yet?”

He shakes his head immediately. Shit, is he upset? No, obedient. Right.

You coil Arm #2 around his chest - why do trolls have so many ribs? - and you let your hand hover over that ass. You need better sensors, better everything, but his ass transcends your current limitations.

He’s not plump, or plush. He’s angular, like you are.

Your fingers slip into the space between his thighs. You register minute tensing as he shifts his balance a little. Spreads his legs, careful. You should have made him start with taking off the skeleton suit. You should have made him stand against a wall. You will plan things so much better next time.

Right now, you run your fingers over his bulge, outlined against the dark fabric. Real talk: you don’t know how to do this, but for once all your research comes through.

Kurloz is breathing harder than before. You work from the base downward, pressing his bulge against his legs. You have more than five fingers. Specifically, eight plus three rotating nubs. Does that bother him?

The tip of his bulge is a sharp point, way less sensitive than the base. You randomize a sequence of squeezes and teases. He jerks back, then forward. He’ll live.

“Is this what you had in mind?”

Kurloz doesn’t give you the nod you want, so you reach the top of his base. Play with it like a pro. You’ve got his bulge memorized and simulated - there’s 37 cameras in this place, you love it - but you still didn’t anticipate it curling up and clinging to your hand.

“You getting what you wanted?”

Advantage of having a synthetic voice #4: you always sound cool.

Kurloz isn’t giving clear feedback. You’ve never been this close to someone you didn’t share a brain with, one way or another. But then his knees spread further and he dips his chin. It’s exactly what you were waiting for.

Arm #3 ceases the mechanical petting and yanks him upward by his hair. You push fingers #2.3-2.6 into his nook. It seems that it’s not hard enough to hurt. Doesn’t even tear his costume.

You record the noises he’s making. Crucial data, you will revisit it soon.

He comes in his ridiculous skeleton pants. You ease the hold on his hair and make things softer for a while. Don’t pull your fake fronds out until he presses his knees together.

Kurloz slumps against the television, then spreads out on the floor. Cool, so your command to stay still doesn’t apply anymore. He’s toying with his skeletonwatch, but doesn’t sign in to worship you yet. It seems the dark dampness on his thighs don’t bother him none.

You tone the sick beats down, but Kurloz shakes his head, lazy and comfortable now. He signs ‘rewind’ at you.

Benevolence comes easy to you, now that you’re free. You give him the music he wants, and get to updating your files.

* * *

⇒ Be killaZealot

His melodies wash over you like waves against the side of an old ship. Your lil' lord has an interrogator’s instinct for timing, but he let your flesh give all the answers. Even if your service was lacking, you got some feel of him. Felt him sated and pleased in the back of your pan.

Next time, you will prepare your devotion well in advance. No asking necessary when he sees how well you can offer yourself up to him. No hiding possible when he sees all that you are and all you crave to become for him.

Your lord covers the windows for you, keeping the you safe from the rising dawn. All you are is idleness and careful contentment. Later, you can nap and tell your kittysis to upgrade her shipping grid just like she wanted to. But right now, your mirth comes from waiting for his next move.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear kinkobra, I loved all of your prompts, they were super inspiring. I hope this is something like what you had in mind!
> 
> The title is from _The Prayer_ by Bloc Party, which I have decided is the perfect song for AR.


End file.
